


easy, as always

by Alitheia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, sheithmonth2018, sweet and cheesy because i need some soft sheith before i die on august 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-09 11:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15266490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alitheia/pseuds/Alitheia
Summary: Morning comes slowly like a shy child, slipping into the house through the slit in the curtains, painting the floor with the color of sunlight. One of the better parts of the day is the beginning, but the best is always whenever Keith's around.For #SheithMonth2018 Day 18 - no prompt/free day





	easy, as always

Morning comes slowly like a shy child, slipping into the house through the slit in the curtains, painting the floor with the color of sunlight. The beginning is one of the better parts of the day, but Shiro wouldn’t realize how bright it has become if it wasn’t for a figure suddenly appearing in the corner of his sight. He looks up from his book, finding Keith walking into the kitchen with eyes half-closed. Turning to Shiro and smiles, he runs a hand through a mess of dark hair that sticks out in pillow style.

“Morning, you sleep well?”

Keith lets out a lighthearted hum, and Shiro translates it as a _yes_ before going back to his reading. His mind is absorbed back into it immediately, but the edge of his focus starts to catch the sounds around; the water in the sink, the pleasant gurgling of the coffee maker, the birds chirping outside the window. He continues reading even as he hears Keith opening the fridge, setting up the pan and turning on the stove.

The coffee comes first. Keith places two mugs on the table, but only one is coffee while the other one is milk. Shiro raises an eyebrow, Keith only gives him a somewhat sleepy grin. Shiro mouths _really?_ and Keith bends to kiss him on the temple, then goes back to the fry the bacon. Although Keith is right that it’s probably better to just have the milk if he’s planning to sleep after this, it’s not easy to abandon coffee when the whole room smells like it. Shiro flips the pages absent-mindedly, before giving it up to watch Keith instead.

The rest continues in a routine that plays like a warm memory. Shiro gets up and stretches, for the first time feeling the soreness in his eyes. He used to pull a lot of all-nighters back in college, but now he knows why rarely does it anymore. Fresh air of late spring comes pouring in when he opens the windows; taking in a deep breath, he lets out a graceless yawn. Shiro then puts the bread in the toaster and takes out the plates, while the other moves their breakfast onto them. Keith is quiet through all of it, in the kind that is assuring and comforting at the same time. He speaks with actions and touches, and Shiro doesn’t really need words either. They work in silent understanding, and everything just falls in the right places. It’s easy.

The smell of butter, the crack of the eggs, the sizzling on the pan, and eventually Shiro says, “Why wake up so early, baby? It’s Sunday.”

Keith glances at him, smiling again. He’s fully awake now. “Don’t know, maybe the bed’s just kinda cold.”

Shiro chuckles, leaning in to kiss Keith’s cheek and murmur _sorry_ to his skin. It is kind of cold. He caresses; chest swelling when Keith nuzzles his hand slightly. “Were you up reading the whole night?”

“Yeah.”

The toasts pop out with a ding. The eggs were done. It’s something so simple yet somehow makes Shiro really happy.

“What’s it about,” Keith asks, “is it that interesting?”

He’s distracted enough, that it needs a second to realize Keith is still talking about the book. “It is.”

“Oh?”

“It’s about a guy who’s got some kind of this… this magic hourglass,” he explains, “it counts the time he can spend with somebody. And when the sand runs out, it’s either they will never meet again, or the other person dies.”

“Let me guess,” Keith says, “this guy finds somebody he loves and starts panicking.”

“More or less.” Shiro laughs. “The whole story is basically about anxiety, how he tries to deal with the whole thing.”

“What happens to the other person in the end?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t gotten to that part yet—only a few pages left, though.”

Keith hums once more, this time neutral in tone, like what he does when he’s thinking. Shiro continues, “But don’t you think it’s a really interesting concept? Imagine, Keith, the things you can plan and do when you know how much time you have left with someone.”

“How so?” The man puts the rest of their breakfast onto the plate, and they bring it to the table.

“Well, you’d be wiser when you’re about to invest time and emotion on somebody, for a start. Things would just be more efficient, it’d be a more fulfilling life.”

“I wonder.”

They fall into easy silence once more, eating while exchanging glances. Morning light frames Keith’s face in the best way, making his eyes glow as he’s basked in gold. Shiro’s gaze follows the way shadow outlines the man’s chin and jaw, collecting in every little detail his mind allows him to. It’s a sight he sees almost every day, like a favorite scene of a movie that he keeps on replay, but still he’s mesmerized each time, and still he wonders how the universe even managed to create something so good and so perfect, there for him and only for him.

Shiro’s eyes then flickers to the book laid between them, somehow feeling jittery. If he had a counter for how much time with Keith he had, Shiro wouldn’t know what to do. He probably wouldn’t ever leave the man’s side, frantically trying to make the best of what they had left. His thoughts start to race, trying to imagine waking up to a morning like this and realizing that it’s actually another day closer to losing Keith. Morning suddenly doesn’t seem that pleasant anymore. Shiro begins to list the things that he wants to do with Keith, things they dream of doing together but haven’t found the time to. Who knows what will happen tomorrow? The sand in their hourglass might be running faster than he dares to think.

His musing is interrupted by the clink of tableware, and he looks up to the sight of Keith gulping the rest of his coffee in one go. “You know,” he says after, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I think I would hate to have something like that.”

“What?”

“The hourglass, like in the book.”

“Why?”

“Well,” pushing his chair backward, Keith stands up with his plate and mug, “because sure as hell it’d get me overthinking and it’d suck to live like that.” He pauses, like he isn’t sure if he should continue, but adds it anyway, “I rather spend every second with you like it’d be our last moment together, Shiro.”

He walks over to the sink, murmuring something along the lines of _maybe I should get more coffee_ and _have you fed the cats?_ while Shiro is left at the table a little stunned, not prepared for the sudden frankness. Of course, of course Keith wouldn’t fret over things like that. Of course he’d much prefer to savor what they have now rather than thinking when it would end. He doesn’t plan, he just goes ahead and make the best of the present. Keith makes it easy because that’s just the kind of person he is.

The sound of running water in the sink pulls him back, and Shiro gets up to follow the other, reaching his waist from behind, slumping onto him in a hug. Keith chuckles, gently. “Sleepy now, baby?”

“Hmm.”

“Thought you’d want to finish the book first.”

“It can wait.”

“Okay.”

“I’d hate to live like that,” Shiro says to his shoulder, soft like a whisper, “I wouldn’t want to worry so much about how to spend it with you.”

“Yeah, ain’t nobody got the time.”

“Yeah.” He breathes in. Keith smells like home. “I’ll cherish every moment like it’d be our last too.”

“Says somebody who just left me alone the whole night,” Keith quips, but good-naturedly. He dries his hands and turns around, resting them on Shiro’s nape. It’s a bit cold, but he doesn’t mind.

“I’ll make up for it.”

“Good.”

Shiro kisses him, slow and lazy like how Sunday mornings are supposed to be. Keith tastes like coffee and everything worth loving, and Shiro thinks if it’s with this man, then maybe he doesn’t really need plans, after all. He’d be overwhelmed otherwise, wouldn’t calm down because he didn’t want to waste, and ended up losing the time because he’s too busy trying to make everything worth it. But not with Keith, because he turns anything and any second of it precious; sometimes it’s less about how to spend the time than it is about being with the right person. They could just lie in bed the whole day before the world ended, and Shiro wouldn’t regret it in the slightest.

It’s always been that easy.


End file.
